


Da Capo Al Fine (if we can remember how it goes)

by MadHattie



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, character study ish, hey griffin what the fuck, spoilers up through episode 59
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 07:52:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10432878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadHattie/pseuds/MadHattie
Summary: Johan never liked conducting funerals





	

**Author's Note:**

> no beta I wrote this all in one go and I'm dying

The funerals were the worst part of the job. 

Otherwise it was a good gig, a great one even. He didn’t have to busk on street corners and let strangers determine whether he was going to eat that night. His room here was comfortable and safe, and while Avi wasn’t the neatest roommate, he was friendly and didn’t complain about Johan playing music at all hours of the day. The Bureau even had good healthcare, and though it had taken some prodding from his friends, he was going to see a therapist about the whole crippling depression thing. While he was up here on the moon, it sometimes seemed like life wasn’t completely awful.

 

But there were still bad days. 

The day that he met the Bureau’s favorite reclaimers was one of those bad days. Of course, they weren’t reclaimers yet, just some dudes wobbling under the haze of the voidfish’s influence like they were on a boat in the middle of a storm. He had seen dozens of new recruits arrive, but these three looked around and muttered like they had a secret. Or maybe they were just really confused. It was hard for him to tell sometimes. 

As he took the long elevator ride down with them, he decided that they were definitely confused, especially the elf, who didn’t seem to get the elevator joke that he had been waiting for a chance to use. Still, they were a good enough audience, except for when they tried to tickle him, because really, being sad was not an invitation for someone you just met to touch you, so why the fuck did they think that. 

But when he reached the row of guards in front of the voidfish’s chamber, the panic started to set in, wrapping itself around his throat and squeezing until it became hard to breathe. He liked to spend time down here, playing for the voidfish and watching its lights dance against the dark walls, but he had been thinking too much lately about the future and death and the general trajectory of his life, and none of the conclusions that he came to were very comforting. Now every time he fed a composition into the tank the voidfish's shimmering stars seemed to mock him. Maybe all he was really good for was making fish food. Or maybe he was destined for so much more than this, and he was just throwing his life away into the tank. He couldn’t decide which was worse.

 

Watching someone be inoculated was never pleasant. It was interesting, sure, especially when the initiates spoke in nonsensical outbursts and yelled about something called “sour cream.” But the looks on their faces as the static cleared was sickening. There was always that first burst of realization when they saw the voidfish in its tank. After that the horror started to creep up, the memory of things and people that had been lost. Some cried out the names of family and friends that had died and been forgotten. Others simply stood statue-still, their eyes wide and glassy. But no matter what, there was always a lingering feeling of guilt. It hung like a cloud in the air, thoughts like “how could I forget…” and “I should have done more,” thick and noxious. The worst part was that it was never their fault for not knowing. They were just collateral damage in a larger scheme to save the world. 

 

The reclaimers nearly left without giving him Magic Brian’s scroll, and part of him wishes that they had. The paper seemed far too flimsy to encompass someone’s life. Skimming through, he could see that the file held only basic stats. Name, appearance, a few details about his childhood. It seemed like a rush job, like the director or whoever made these files wanted the deed to be done as soon as possible. No one wanted to spend much time to remember a traitor.

Johan shoved the scroll into the feeding slot, but before he could pull the lever he paused. He remembered Brian. The two of them were never friends, but Brian was loud enough and outgoing enough that Johan knew who he was. Once when the two of them had been stuck in a long elevator together, Brian had gone on a monologue about how much he loved his fiance. By the end of their ride Brian had gone far enough as to invite him to his wedding. But now that wasn’t going to happen, was it? And as much as he tried, Johan couldn’t remember if Brian’s fiance was part of the Bureau or not. Would that man Johan had only heard stories about have to live with a gap where a lover should be? Would he have a ring on his finger with no story behind it?

Johan yanked down on the lever harder than he needed to. He shouldn’t think about the consequences, he told himself, he should just do his job and get on with his life. But still he felt his eyes drift upwards towards the brilliant starbursts that erupted in the voidfish’s body. One of those lights was a happy memory, and he had just taken it away. 

 

Nearly a year later Johan watched the world turn gray as the room swarmed with figures carved from darkness. Not even the voidfish, floating above the wreckage of its tank, had any color left in it. He watched a strange wooden figure hack and slash at the shadows, and when the shadows finally destroyed it, he saw the ghost of Magnus Burnsides rise from the wreckage. He was impossibly bright, too colorful to belong to this bleak world. All around him were threads of light, pulling at the edges of his deep red jacket. Wherever he was meant to be, it wasn’t here.

“Please,” Johan called as Magnus began to drift away, bringing the color with him. “Don’t let them erase me. Don’t let them make the world forget.”

Magnus barely had time to nod before he was pulled away and Johan was left alone, nothing but a faulty memory of the person that he used to be.


End file.
